<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Always by jencsi</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22817620">Always</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jencsi/pseuds/jencsi'>jencsi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>CSI: Crime Scene Investigation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 11:41:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,405</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22817620</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jencsi/pseuds/jencsi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff"><p>I know the original song "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" was performed by Diana Ross but I have the Michael McDonald version in my head and in mind when I wrote this fic. Always loved that version too. Also the lyrics were italicized on Word but for some reason A03 won't save them so I put them in quotes. Hope it's not confusing.</p></div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Julie "Finn" Finlay/D.B. Russell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Always</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Listen baby"</p><p>	He can see the mascara and other colorful eye makeup mixing with her tears and cascading slowly down her cheek. She hangs her head, but he slides on finger under her chin to tilt her head up to see her properly. She turns her head away, ashamed, embarrassed, a myriad of emotions. But he needs her to know its okay to cry, to feel what she’s feeling right now. </p><p>	"Ain't no mountain high, ain't no valley low, ain't no river wide enough baby"</p><p>She bites her lip, trying to hold back any more tears but it’s useless. She only cries like this when something really hurts her. It takes all of his combined strength not to haul off and hunt down the bastard who caused this pain. He watched her get ready for this date in the locker room, adjusting her hair and her dress in the mirror after her shift, putting on all that makeup, smiling, excited for her night out. But no sooner had he settled in at home for the night when he heard a knocking at his front door. When he opened it, she was there, shivering, arms crossed over her chest, tears falling, uttering the devastating words “He’s with- someone else” </p><p>"Baby if you need me call me no matter where you are, no matter how far; just call my name; I'll be there in a hurry; you don't have to worry"</p><p> </p><p>	He broke her heart, left her out in the cold, metaphorically speaking as they were in Vegas, shattered her trust, and left him to pick up the pieces of her fractured soul. She wobbles on unsteady legs into the house, sinking onto the arm of the first chair she finds, yanking her high heels off and letting the clatter to the floor, not caring. She wipes her tear streaked face clumsily with her arm, taking all that mascara and makeup with her. He steps over to her, providing a box of tissues, wanting to help, balling the tissues up and dabbing at her eyes and her cheeks, so delicate, adorned with tiny freckles. But its not enough, so he takes his thumb and wipes away the tears and smudges, tending to her as if she were a child who fell and scrapped her knee. </p><p>"Cause baby there ain't no mountain high enough, ain't no valley low enough, ain't no river wide enough, to keep me from getting to you babe"</p><p> </p><p>	He makes her sit down on the couch instead of slouching on the arm of this cushioned chair. He can see her knees shake as she struggles to calm down, to get a hold of herself, to control her sobs. </p><p>	“I just-wanted you to know,” she explains “you don’t have to- take care of me.”</p><p>		“I will always take care of you Jules,” he reminds her. </p><p>“Crying, too much, in front of you,” she tells him “I shouldn’t, I’m sorry.”</p><p>	“Cry as much as you want,” he soothes, putting his hands on her knees to alleviate her shaking. </p><p>Her skin is like ice even though she’s likely pumped on adrenaline and wants to punish that guy for hurting her. Little does she know how much his blood is boiling at the thought of someone breaking her heart this way. </p><p>“Everyone hurts me in the end,” she cries now “what’s wrong with me?” </p><p>	“Nothing,” he assures her “it’s them, not you, they are losers.”</p><p>“It hurts like Mike, like Seattle, like you,” she confesses, and he has to lean back. </p><p>	He’s not surprised that she still has pain from the Cooley case and her subsequent firing all those years ago. It kills him that she associates him in her catalog of pain. He never wanted to cause that pain, to rip apart her soul, to give her any sort of grief, but he was her boss, he had no choice. <br/>“I didn’t mean it,” he apologizes “Jules, you know why I had to let you go.”</p><p>	“Doesn’t mean it still didn’t hurt,” she sniffles, bouncing her legs up and down anxious, fidgety. She will never know the magnitude of the ache he felt and still feels right now. </p><p>"Remember the day I set you free, I told you you could always count on me, from that day on, I made a vow, I'll be there when you want me, some way, somehow"</p><p> </p><p>	Truth be told, he hated letting her go in Seattle, and not just from an employer standpoint. A part of him died that day, seeing the look in her eyes when he told her she had to leave, hearing the crack in her voice as she tried to explain why she did what she did. Disheveled, broken, beat down but resilient, a continual spitfire, she would be okay in time. And from that moment on, he promised to find a way to protect her and rescue her when she needed it, even if she hated him and cursed his name. And now every time she had a breakup or a bad case, this is where they ended up. </p><p>	“I should go,” she says, standing up on shaky legs “I’ve bothered you enough tonight.”</p><p>He stands with her, reaching out a hand to touch her arm and tell her not to go, he wants her here, even under these circumstances. He cannot watch her walk away in pain again. Something ignites in his heart every time he sees her. </p><p>	"My love is alive, way down in my heart, although we are miles apart"</p><p> </p><p>“Stay,” he utters “you shouldn’t be alone right now, I’ll make some tea and we can sit and talk.</p><p>	“You shouldn’t have to sit here and watch me carry on like a fool,” she says, “crying in front of you, I do that too much don’t I?”</p><p>	He shrugs, not sure how to tell her that life is just funny that way, that they keep having these moments together because by some miracle, she gets to be in his life, for the good and the bad. </p><p>	“You’re safe here,” he reminds her, and she sinks back down onto the couch, his hand still resting on her arm, guiding her there with a gentle hold that reaches into her soul and makes her feel safe. </p><p>	"If you need me call me no matter where you are, no matter how far; just call my name; I'll be there in a hurry; you don't have to worry"</p><p>	He makes do on that promise of tea, once she has stopped sniffling, she feels well enough to drink it and sit and talk, mostly curse the name of her suitor into the night for his infidelity. She curses love and all it’s faults and her inability to stop seeking out men who can never make her truly happy. They talk until she starts to yawn and rub her eyes that are now free of makeup since its been cried off. He offers her the spare room to sleep in, to rest and forget all about him. </p><p>	"Cause baby there ain't no mountain high enough, ain't no valley low enough, ain't no river wide enough"</p><p>	He guides her to that room, making sure she has enough blankets, retrieving the travel bag she keeps in her car that is parked outside so she can have a change of clothes. She emerges from the bathroom, tossing the dress she wore into the travel back, hating the negative memory now associated with it. Her idea of pajamas is a Seattle Seahawks T-shirt and yoga pants, an outfit he had seen her wear before when she slept over with the kids when they were little or when she needed to stay with him and Barbara after a bad case, after her breakup with Mike. </p><p>Even coming off this breakup, she looks angelic, beautiful, perfect. She climbs into the bed, thanking him for his time and support tonight. He mumbles a soft reply that it is no trouble at all. He hovers by the door as her head hits the pillow and she shifts to get comfortable before dozing within minutes. He cannot take his eyes off her and his legs don’t want to carry him out of the room just yet. He doubles back to make sure she is properly tucked in and when he knows she’s asleep, presses a kiss to her forehead. Warm. </p><p>	"To keep me from getting to you babe"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know the original song "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" was performed by Diana Ross but I have the Michael McDonald version in my head and in mind when I wrote this fic. Always loved that version too. Also the lyrics were italicized on Word but for some reason A03 won't save them so I put them in quotes. Hope it's not confusing.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>